


Wrong Way, Go Back

by WaitingForMy



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Accidents, M/M, New Year New AU, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28474515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaitingForMy/pseuds/WaitingForMy
Summary: David’s life as he knows it has been turned upside-down. Suddenly, he has more responsibility than any eighteen-year-old should have and no one to go to.Then, he meets Jack Kelly in a church basement.(My take on the Single Dads AU that’s been going around like COVID. Title subject to change)
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, past Jack Kelly/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer
Comments: 13
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

David was a good driver. He always had been. He kept his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel at nine and three o’clock. He never looked at his phone, even at red lights. On the way to the church on a Monday night, he hadn’t even turned on the radio, avoiding distractions at all cost. He wondered, therefore, how he had managed to get himself so far out of his lane.

For one thing, he had never been in a Christian church. This one had a large, bronzy statue of Jesus affixed to the front, above the doors and well off-center to the left. David felt very much like Off-Center Jesus was judging him, though he knew enough about the New Testament to know that was kind of the opposite of JC’s schtick. Besides, he was off-center, so he had no business judging David, and besides, he was a _statue._ David sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as he stepped out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. He would be fine. He had every right to be there, and the few people milling around outside probably weren’t taking as much notice of him as he felt like they were. Still, that first step through the double glass doors into the narthex felt nearly insurmountable. A lot of things had felt insurmountable recently. Just like the rest of those things, though, David managed that first step. He swerved out of his lane.

The narthex was filled with people. Probably by virtue of the meetings about to take place, the women were gravitating towards one side and the men towards the other, and David was begrudgingly thankful for that little bit of clarity as he made his nervous way to the men’s side. Now, he knew people were looking at him, but he could justify it if he tried. He was a new face, after all; of course he would attract more attention than the regulars. “Um, I’m sorry, excuse me?” he asked a man in a (hideous) green polo shirt. “I’m looking for the single fathers’ support group. Am I in the right place?

The man narrowed his eyes slightly, and David felt very much the same as he had standing in front of Off-Center Jesus. “You’re in the right place,” the man confirmed.

David nodded, forcing a polite smile. “Thank you.” He stepped over into a nearby corner to wait, take a few deep breaths, and hopefully settle his nerves a bit. His stomach was churning with a strangely numb, sour anticipation that bordered on nausea but didn’t quite tip the scale. He felt like he was doing something crazy or wrong, like driving down the wrong side of the road.

“Stupid,” the man in the hideous, green polo said to someone else, lowly but still loudly enough for David to hear. “This group is supposed to be for single dads, not irresponsible boys who don’t know how to keep it in their pants.”

David pressed his lips together firmly to ward off the cold stab of anger the accusation brought. He was so, so far out of his lane.

Before he could spend too long stewing over his discomfort, however, a smiling man with a mustache and glasses spoke over the din of chatting voices. “Alright, guys, why don’t we head down to the basement and let the ladies have their space?”

David strongly considered turning around and leaving. He obviously wasn’t welcome or wanted in this group. After all, it was for single dads, and he didn’t qualify. Still, there was a voice in his head—his own father’s actually—telling him to always fight for himself. _Never be afraid to fight for yourself, David._ But David was always better at fighting for other people than for himself. Then again, wasn’t that exactly what he was doing?

In the end, he did make his way down into the church basement with the group (which was just as ominous as it sounds) because he had every right to be there. He had every fucking right.

In the basement was a collection of metal folding chairs arranged in a circle, like every stereotypical support group meeting. David took a seat among the dozen or so other men, a few of whom had brought young children. Only one of them, sitting across the circle, looked even remotely close to David’s age, and he shot David a quick smile before turning his attention back to the fussy baby in his arms. David took a deep breath. He could do this. He could go to a support meeting for single fathers. God knew he could use some advice.

“Hello, everyone,” the man with the mustache and glasses, who ended up sitting right next to David, said before any more chatter could crop up. “I see we have some new faces here, so why don’t we start with introductions. Tell us your name, a little bit about you, your kids, your situation.” David got the distinct impression that his was the only new face, and the man’s encouraging smile that was directed only at him confirmed it. “I’ll start, and we’ll work our way around to you, okay?”

David nodded awkwardly. He hadn’t been expecting to get called out like that, and he felt a little knocked off-kilter.

_Out of my lane. Out of my lane. Out. Of. My. Lane._

The leader of the group stood and introduced himself as Ted, a widower with six now-grown children. He introduced them all, two daughters and four sons, but David didn’t commit their names to memory, and he didn’t pay attention at all when the next man started talking. His gaze kept being drawn to the guy who looked to be around his age. He had tan skin and dark brown hair that curled just slightly at the tips. His baby—a little girl, if the pink and white polka-dotted blanket and gender roles were anything to go by—babbled quietly, and he smiled down at her, and oh—that smile ought to be a registered weapon.

Okay, so the guy was hot and David was gay. Big deal.

David did his best to tune back in to the next few divorcés as they introduced themselves. The man in the hideous, green polo was named _Derek_ and was struggling to parent his teenage daughter after his wife left them for a younger man, so David supposed that explained some of his bitterness. Then, the young guy stood up.

“Hi. I’m Jack, I’m eighteen—” There were a number of ‘subtle’ scoffs and shaken heads around the circle, and Jack’s voice took on a distinctly argumentative quality. “—and I’m a grown man with a sex drive. Sorry.” He gestured at—or, rather, with his baby. “This is Anna, she’s 3 months old, and I’d die for her, so.” He sat back down.

David offered him a small smile in solidarity. He obviously wasn’t the only one getting crap from the older men. Jack smiled back, but it was clearly forced, and he quickly looked away.

As the circle of introductions neared David’s turn, he started feeling a little lightheaded and sick to his stomach. It’s not that he was _shy,_ per se, just introverted, and he was about to have to tell a dozen strangers his less-than-pleasant story. When he stood, a number of other participants made small gestures, glancing at each other as if to say _look at this kid._ David bristled. Fuck them. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you all. I’m David, I’m eighteen.” He held for applause, or in this case a handful of grumbles of rolled eyes. He set his jaw. “And, a couple months ago, both my parents died in an accident, and I got custody of my eleven-year-old brother.”

The room went dead silent, as if a soundproof cage had just fallen from the ceiling and surrounded David. If he wasn’t so pissed off, he might have smirked. Fuck them. Fuck them _and_ their assumptions.

“Now, I know I’m not technically a single father,” he went on, as if that was the thing causing the others to shift uncomfortably, “but I think I count.”

“Of course you do, David,” Ted enthused, clapping him gently on the back and causing him to jump a little. “It’s wonderful to have you, but I am sorry to hear about your parents.”

The others mumbled their agreements, and David sat back down, feeling intensely satisfied.

Across the circle, Jack smiled at him, and David smiled back.

* * *

“Hey, David, wait!”

David stopped with his hand on the door. He had been intending to hightail it to the parking lot as soon as the meeting was over, but he turned towards the sound of Jack’s voice, anyway. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Jack grinned. “Don’t leave yet. Lemme just give Anna to her mom.”

“I’m going to step outside,” David told him. If he had to spend another second in that church—

Jack nodded. “Alright, I’ll meetcha there.”

Jack disappeared into the crowd, and David pushed open the door, more than a little relieved to feel the damp night air on his face as he walked out onto the sidewalk. He removed himself from the flow of people exiting the church and stood off to the side, where Off-Center Jesus couldn’t see him. He took his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text message.

_Everything okay? •_

He didn’t get a reply before Jack emerged from the church, looking around for a moment before his eyes landed on David. He jogged over. “Hey, sorry. Anna’s mom goes to the moms’ group, so we just switch her off while we’re here.”

“It’s fine,” David assured him. “She’s a beautiful baby.”

Jack grinned. “Yeah, she is, isn’t she?”

David hoped he wasn’t blushing, though he supposed he could try and blame it on leftover nerves from the meeting, if he was. Jack was shorter than him by a couple inches, but he had the sort of confidence that made him seem ten feet tall, and that _smile;_ David was proud he hadn’t collapsed at Jack’s feet, at that smile.

Jack cleared his throat, startling David back into his wits. “Well hey, I was just thinking: you seem stressed, of course, as you would be, an’ I just dropped the baby off for the week, so maybe you’d like to come with me to the iHop down the road and let me buy you some pancakes.”

Now, David prided himself on being a quick thinker. His brain could cycle through a number of useful, coherent thoughts in a second, and a pretty face with a relaxed, New York accent wasn’t about to change that.

One. David didn’t know Jack. He could be a total creep, rapist, murderer, or just a plain asshole.

Two. Very few bad things could come from a trip to iHop, especially if David and Jack drove separately. 

Three. Jack was gorgeous, and he was showing interest in David. In fact, he had just offered to buy David food, which was a hard bargain if David had ever heard one.

Four. It wasn’t a date. Jack had a child, which meant he had slept with a woman. While not impossible, it was statistically improbable that he would also happen to be interested in men.

Five. Who cares?

Six. David looked down at his phone. He still hadn’t gotten a reply to his text, and Les—

“Hey, no pressure,” Jack said. “You can just say no; no need to let me down easy.”

“No!” David answered quickly. “No, I— I mean yes. Yes, I would like to go, it’s just that my brother is home alone, and I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Jack nodded. “For sure. Take your time.”

David looked down at his phone again, and mercifully, Les was typing.

_• Yes I’m good_

David smiled, exhaling in relief. He looked back up at Jack. “Okay, yes.”

* * *

“So, Davey—”

“David,” he corrected. “I mean, Davey’s fine, but no one calls me that.”

Jack smiled crookedly. “I just did.”

David cut off another bite of French toast with the edge of his fork, mostly so he had an excuse to look down and hide his blush. “You were saying?”

“How’d you like the group? You gonna keep comin’?”

David shrugged. “It was alright.”

“The guys’ll be nicer to you, now they know you’re not a godless sinner,” Jack said, and David quirked an eyebrow.

“Is that what you are?”

“Clearly.”

They lapsed into a sudden, though pleasantly French toast-filled silence. David didn’t know if Jack was asking because he hoped David would keep coming to the support group. It would make sense that he would want someone else his age there, but David’s situation wasn’t at all like his. It’s not like David could commiserate with him on the struggles of getting someone pregnant in high school.

“We used condoms,” Jack said, breaking the silence. “We did, but one of them broke...and I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” He shook his head and looked back down at his plate of bacon and eggs.

“I don’t think you’re irresponsible, if that’s what you mean,” said David. “You’re eighteen, and you have fifty-fifty custody of your three-month-old daughter. That can’t be easy.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “ _You_ think _my_ situation can’t be easy? Shit, Dave…”

David nodded to the side. Fair enough.

“I don’t wanna upset you or make you talk about it if you don’t want to,” Jack went on. “I don’t know how you feel, but...I kind of do? I mean, I don’t have my parents, either. And I know it’s not the same, but—”

“You understand better than most,” David finished for him. “What happened to your parents?” Normally, he would never demand something so invasive, especially of someone he just met, but Jack started it, and there was a bitter part of him that thought it was only fair. If Jack got to know what hurt him, he got to know what hurt Jack.

“My mom died,” Jack answered with the ease of someone who was probably much younger when it happened and pretty well over it by now. “My dad...he’s just not in the picture,” he added with the hesitation of someone who was less over this part.

David nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”

Jack shrugged. “It’s only fair.”

David liked Jack. He was easy to talk to, even easier to look at, and he was paying for French toast. What was there not to like? Still, David felt like he was out of his lane. He wasn’t even sure he would ever see Jack again. The support group had been...rough. Even though the animosity towards him had ceased the moment David revealed his situation, the men had already shown their true colors.

“You have a look,” Jack said, pointing at David with his fork. “I know that look. That’s the ‘am I gonna bother going back to support group with all these assholes’ look. I remember how that goes.”

David smiled, amused. “You caught me.”

“Well, for what it’s worth—” Jack stopped for a second as their waiter came to drop off their check. “For what it’s worth, I hope you come back.” His lips twisted into a deadly smirk. “S’nice to have somethin’ in the circle to look at.”

David’s brain just about short-circuited.

Jack snickered. “You ready to go? I think I pay up front.”

They made their way up to the register. David considered making a token effort to pay for his own meal—he was no charity case—but decided against it. Jack had been clear that he was paying since the very beginning.

“Oh, here.” Before he set the pen down after signing the receipt, Jack took David’s hand and scribbled on it. “Even if you don’t come back next week.”

“You’re good to go, sir,” said the woman behind the counter.

Jack smiled at her, then shot David a blinding grin. “I’d better get going. I’ve barely slept all week with the baby.” He started backwards towards the door. “Seeya later, Davey.”

“Seeya,” David responded dazedly. He looked down at his hand.

_Jack Kelly ♡_

A phone number.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited by the response to this story, so far! I hope you all continue to enjoy.

“Les,” David called, lightly rapping on his brother’s bedroom door with the back of his knuckles, “I’m going to the grocery store. Do you want to come?”

“No.”

No. Just ‘no’. After a moment of consideration, David opened the door. Les was in bed, playing on his phone, because that was almost all he did, anymore. David leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. “What do you want me to get for you?”

“Whatever.”

“No, you see, you always say that, and then you get mad when we don’t have what you want to eat,” David argued. “Why don’t you just come with me?”

“Why don’t you just leave me alone?” Les snapped.

David took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Why don’t I do that?” He rolled off the doorframe and out of the room, closing the door behind him, and headed downstairs to the kitchen. This was how it had been, since their parents’ funeral. Les used to be a happy kid. Hell, he and David used to be best friends, but now…

David tried not to get mad. He tried like hell, but it wasn’t fair. Les didn’t seem to realize that David was hurting, too. David had lost his parents, too. But David was eighteen, and Les was eleven, so David held it together. David made sacrifices. David made the budget and paid the bills and did the grocery shopping.

With a huff, he snatched their reusable grocery bags out of the pantry and started towards the door to the garage. He ran his fingers along a bit of stitching that felt just a bit thicker than the rest, and when he looked down, he saw that it was a slightly different color of green. There had been a hole, he remembered. He had been about to throw it away, but his mother took it from him instead, sat at the kitchen table, and stitched it closed. That was years ago. David must have used that bag a thousand times since then, but he had never given that mended stitch a second thought, before.

David would be doing the stitching, from now on.

David needed to sit down for a moment.

There was something viscerally strange about existing in the same space where his parents used to exist. Everything was the same. Hell, their bedroom was practically untouched, left exactly the way it had been before they died, as if David and Les were just waiting for them to come back. Maybe they were. How did one come to terms with the fact that the two people who had been there since before the beginning weren’t there anymore and never would be again? From whom did a young man learn to be an adult, if not from his father and mother?

Tears stung the backs of his eyes, but didn’t fall. He hadn’t actually cried since the funeral—never had the time or the energy. What he did have was a gaping ache in his chest, heavy, dry, brittle, as if his rib cage was empty save for cobwebs and dust. Everything he knew, everything he was, everything he hoped and worked for had crumbled in a day, and he was still finding pieces of himself in the corners, under the rugs, in the carefully mended seam on a cloth grocery bag. Putting every piece back was like setting a bone.

He needed a distraction, something, _anything_ to think about besides how embarrassingly out of his depth, out of his lane he was. His gaze landed on the smudge of ink still on the back of his hand. After a moment’s deliberation, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and found the number he had saved before washing his hands, the previous night.

 _David Jacobs •_ _  
__You gave me your full name, but I didn’t give you mine. It’s David Jacobs._

_• LMFAO my full name is Jonathan Francis Kelly-Sullivan_

_• I gave u Jack Kelly_

_Do you go by Jack Kelly or Jonathan Francis Kelly-Sullivan? •_

_• U seem pretty smart, I’ll let you puzzle that one out for urself_

_In that case, how are you, Jonathan? •_

_• Fuck off_

David snickered to himself. Jack was already typing another reply.

_• Yeah ur SMART alright_

_I do my best. •_

_• Beautiful smart independent_

_How are you, Jack? •_

The last two messages had been sent at nearly the same time, and it was a good thing, too, because all David’s thoughts had come crashing to a halt. Okay, so he’d never had the greatest social skills, but he thought he would have noticed if the literal DILF from the support group was into him. He had to be missing something.

_• I’m good, enjoying my childfree day for the next couple hours before I get lonely and start to miss her_

_• How r u?_

_I’m doing well. •_

—he lied.

_• Good :)_

_• Did u just txt me to tell me your last name?_

_Pretty much, yes. •_

_• Do u always text with perfect punctuation or did I manage to piss u off already?_

_I always text with perfect punctuation. You’ve been incredibly kind to me. •_

_• food_

_• *good_

_• Do u wanna hang out sometime, Davey Jacobs?_

_*David •_

_• Sorry_

_• Do u wanna hang out sometime, Davey David?_

_Sure, Jacky Jack. •_

_• Aww fuck we got petnames already we’re practically married_

_• I’m free every night this week and I’m off on Thursday hmu_

_I will. Right now, I need to go to the Aldi. •_

_• O shit the one at cedar and the highway?_

_Is there another one? •_

_• If u see a dumb twink with curly blond hair tell him to stop smoking_

_• Tell him ur psychic or something it’ll be great_

_Haha, okay. •_

David put his phone back in his pocket, still feeling achy and sad, but in a significantly clearer headspace. He stood back up, grabbing the grocery bags and his keys on the way out the door.

* * *

The Jacobses had never been a wealthy family. They lived in a two-bedroom townhouse with a basement they converted into David’s room. They shopped at Aldi, skipped most name brands, and used coupons whenever it made sense. They had never been wealthy, but David hadn’t realized just how not wealthy they were until he was the one handling the money. To be fair, they hadn’t had a steady income in two months. David was waiting until Les went back to school to find a job. He was starting to wonder if that was a mistake. That was another six weeks of living off savings, and while it could be done, it probably wasn’t smart. David didn’t want to leave Les home alone all day, but he didn’t want to leave them in a bind financially if they had an emergency—another one, that was.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and picked a flavor of generic toaster pastries at random. Les had been complaining about their lack of PopTarts, a few days earlier, and David did keep track of these things. He ended up with blueberry and tossed them into the cart. 

Chances were, even if David started looking for a job yesterday, it would take him a few weeks to actually get hired and start working. A recent high school graduate who dropped out of college before he even started wasn’t exactly the dream applicant, and good grades and an impressive debate club career only counted for so much in the ‘real world’. He needed a regular, nine-to-five, Monday-through-Friday job if he wasn’t going to totally abandon Les, he needed to make more than minimum wage, and yet he wasn’t in a position to be picky. Perfect.

He checked the expiration dates on the milk and selected the jug with the furthest one. He couldn’t afford to buy anything he was just going to have to throw out, and with two fewer people in the house, David was still mastering the art of the weekly grocery haul.

Sometimes, he wondered if he should have let Les go into foster care.

It made him sick to think about it, but God, what if he messed this up? Was he being selfish by keeping Les with him instead of giving him to someone older and better equipped to raise a child? As always when this train of thought came rumbling towards the station, David pulled the switch lever hard. He may not have been a parent, but he was a legal fucking guardian, and Lester Jacobs was _his_ child.

He pulled his cart into a checkout lane, having very nearly worked himself into a huff, and began placing items on the conveyor belt. The cashier piped up, “Did you find everything okay?”

“I did. Thank you,” David replied, glancing up at him. He almost did a double take. The cashier was undeniably a twink, and while David couldn’t tell from their brief interaction if he was dumb, he did have what appeared to be salsa in his curly, blond hair.

“Cool,” he said placidly, as he began scanning David’s items. “What’s your favorite kind of turtle?”

David blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your favorite kind of turtle,” the cashier repeated. “Mine’s the Cantor’s giant softshell turtle.” He whipped his phone out too fast for David to see where it came from and showed him his lock screen background, which was, in fact, [a picture of a very strange looking turtle](https://www.treehugger.com/thmb/g7p10NNJoVUppdK9vvVN-aT6obw=/1152x0/filters:no_upscale\(\):max_bytes\(150000\):strip_icc\(\):format\(webp\)/__-c654b51134dd4698b2fa719c1156b094.jpg).

“Oh.” David nodded slowly. He glanced down at the cashier’s nametag, only to find that his name was covered by a sparkly racecar sticker. “I...don’t have a favorite turtle.”

“Lame,” he sighed.

David blinked some more, now entirely off-balance. “I’m...sorry?”

“You should be.”

He wasn’t sure if the cashier was kidding or actually offended by his lack of turtle preference, but he decided to keep his mouth shut and instead start bagging his own groceries, as one does at Aldi. Luckily, the cashier forwent any further questioning in favor of singing along to Katy Perry’s _Firework_ on the radio.

“Thank you,” David said after completing the transaction as quickly as possible. “And, um…” Ah, what the hell? “You should stop smoking.”

The cashier’s eyes widened comically. “Wha— Who are you?? How did you—?”

“Psychic. Gotta run.” David took his cart and high-tailed it out of the store.

* * *

When David got home, he was mildly surprised to find Les in the living room. This wasn’t a particularly uncommon occurrence, but he had expected Les to stay in his room. What _was_ strange was that the TV wasn’t on, and Les didn’t appear to be on his phone; he was just sitting on the couch, doing...nothing.

“Hey, Les,” David said, pushing away the edge of concern that threatened to creep into his voice. He set the grocery bags on the counter. “What are you doing?”

“I was watching TV,” Les replied, “but there isn’t anything good on.”

That made David feel a little bit better. At least Les had a reason to be sitting on the couch doing nothing. “Okay. Do you want to help me put away groceries?”

“Not really.”

There he was. “ _Will you_ help me put away groceries?”

He groaned. “Do I have to?”

“It would be nice,” David said, which was about as close to an order as he could muster.

With another groan, Les got to his feet. “There are a couple more bags in the car,” David told him, and he headed that way while David started putting away the frozen food.

David and Les had always been close. Les was just the right amount of younger to see David as somewhat of an authority figure, and David was just the right amount of older to not feel like he was competing for their parents’ attention. Of course, that all changed after the accident. David didn’t feel like much of an authority figure anymore. Les certainly didn’t view him as one, and it was hard to be hard on him when David knew he was hurting. David was in way over his head, out of his depth, out of his lane.

Les came back in and dumped the last two bags on the counter, then turned and made for the stairs.

“Thank you,” David said.

“Whatever.”

He watched him go, considering saying something to stop him, but he decided against it. He just shook his head and went back to putting the groceries away. He had just finished with the produce when his phone buzzed.

_• UR MY NEW BEST FRIEND_

Jack sent a screenshot of two text messages from ‘Race':

_• SOEM GUY ST ALDI JUST TOLD MENTONSTOP SMOKING THEN SAID HES PSYCHIC???,?_

_• Jack I’m scared_

David smiled, equal parts amused and bewildered. He’d never had many friends, and here was not only a window into Jack’s relationship with Race, but Jack declaring he and David were friends. It made sense; they were the same age, and they were both responsible for children. Those were two things they had in common with each other that they didn’t have in common with many others—not at the same time. It was nice to know someone who understood, who didn’t pity David for the unfortunate circumstance of becoming a parent at eighteen, even if the circumstances that brought them each to that life were vastly different.

_Does Thursday work for you? •_

Only after he sent the message did David stop to think that was a strange response to ‘you’re my new best friend’.

_• Hell yeah!!! U wanna come over?_

_Would you mind coming over to my house? I still have my child this week._ •

_• o yeah duh_

_• Just give me a time and an address and I’m all urs_

David knew it probably wasn’t flirtatious, but God, did it feel flirtatious. He sighed as he replied to Jack with his address. He had met the man less than twenty-four hours earlier, they’d been friends for approximately two minutes, and he already had a stupid crush. If he wanted any chance of an actual, adult friendship, he was going to have to get over that and fast.


End file.
